La Belle Gaston
by DeathlyMarshmallows
Summary: The enchantress saves Gaston's life after he falls from the castle, but transforms him into a woman to punish him for his bigoted and misogynistic ways. Armed with only a few vague instructions, Gaston sets out on a journey to win his old body back and learns some very important lessons along the way.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

The air ripped through Gaston's hair as he fell faster and faster towards the ravine below. He didn't care that he was about to die. He was just glad that he had taken the Beast with him. If Gaston couldn't have Belle, no one could. The Beast was a thief who stolen Belle behind Gaston's back. He had to die, even if it meant that Gaston had to sacrifice his own life. He heard a small splash as his body finally hit the shallow ravine and, for a few brief seconds, he felt the most awful pain he had ever felt in his life before he completely blacked out.

The first thing that Gaston saw when he regained consciousness was a pair of refulgent green eyes peering down at him inquisitively.

"Are you alright?" the owner of the eyes asked in a deep, orotund, yet obviously feminine voice.

Gaston sat up and blinked. It took a few moments for him to realise that he was sitting in his own bed back at his house. Standing by his bedside was easily the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life. She had an elegant face, with high cheekbones, a long nose, and thick, full red lips. Long, wavy, golden hair fell down her back and stopped at her ankles. Her slim yet perfectly proportioned body was encased in a flowing, velvet robe that matched the colour of her eyes.

"Are you alright?" the woman repeated.

"I am now," said Gaston, flashing her his most charming smile. "My clothes are still wet, though."

The hunter peeled back his blankets and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. He slowly unbuttoned his shirt, threw it to the floor and flexed his muscles.

"I must apologise," the woman said, raising an eyebrow as Gaston seductively ran a hand through his chest hair. "I just wanted to teach the young prince a lesson, I never meant for anyone to get hurt."

Gaston looked up at her, confused.

"What prince?" he asked.

"I am an enchantress," the woman explained. "Ten years ago I transformed the prince of this region into a beast to punish him for his selfish ways."

"So that beast that I just killed, he was really a prince?" asked Gaston, grinning from ear to ear.

Gaston couldn't help but swell with pride at this news. His father had despised nobility. He had considered the king and queen to be lazy, greedy tyrants who cared little for their people. He had often talked of starting a resistance group and rising up against the monarchy. If only he were alive today.

"Yes," confirmed the enchantress. "Fortunately the spell was broken just in time and the magic not only transformed the prince back into a man but also returned him to full health."

Gaston cursed under his breath and looked up into the enchantress's forest green eyes. He immediately perked up. The prince could keep Belle, he decided. This woman was far more beautiful. The enchantress thing could cause a few problems, but Gaston liked a challenge.

"I must confess, I didn't just bring you back here to heal you," continued the enchantress. "You see, I specialise in doling out punishments for those who I believe have been especially wicked. In the prince's case, I transformed him into a beast, not because he was vain and narcissistic, though that certainly was part of the reason, but rather because he had no love in his heart. In order to win back his human body, he had to learn to love another. I have been watching you these past few months and-"

"You don't need to say any more," said Gaston, holding up one of his large hands. "I know what you're here for. I mean, that punishing the wicked nonsense? That's no life for a beautiful woman like you and I'm glad you have finally realised it."

He pulled the enchantress onto his lap and grinned at her. The enchantress stared back at him, utterly dumbstruck.

"You're in luck," he continued. "I've been waiting for someone just like you to come along. It will take me an hour or two, but I should be able to organise a wedding today if you don't mind wearing what you've got on now. What a life we will have together. I can see it now. Me relaxing in the living room after a long day of hunting as you cook our dinner in the kitchen. Our first child should be born before the year is out. I used to think I wanted six or seven sons, but we are so beautiful I think we owe it to the world to have at least a dozen."

"And what if we don't just have sons?" asked the enchantress, pulling herself away from Gaston. "What would happen if I gave birth to a daughter?"

Gaston roared with laughter.

"No child of mine would dare come out a girl," he said when he was finally able to contain himself. "Now I know what you're thinking. You are worried that after giving birth to twelve children, your body will no longer be fit to pleasure mine. Fortunately our house will be large enough to accommodate a mistress or three. No doubt they will have four or five of my sons themselves, so even though your old, worn out body will no longer be able bear children you will still have the honour of raising the boys that they produce."

The enchantress could only shake her head.

"You are unbelievable," she told him.

"Thank you," said Gaston proudly.

"You really are a pathetic man. I was going to turn you into a frog," she said. "But I believe I have a far more apt punishment for you."

The enchantress waved her hands and the room filled with a thick, foul-smelling, green smoke. Pain gripped Gaston's entire body as he felt it radically change shape.

"What did you do to me?" Gaston demanded as the smoke cleared. His voice was decidedly more high-pitched and feminine than usual.

He looked down at his bare chest and almost fell off the bed in shock. His enormous, muscular chest was gone. In its place were two very large, pink breasts that rivalled even those of Emma Rey, whose own bosoms had once caused two travelling merchants to crash wagons carrying their entire stock into each other.

"This isn't my body. I-I'm a woman," he stammered, unable to take his eyes off his breasts.

"That's right," murmured the enchantress. "And you will remain in this body until I feel that you deserve your old body back."

"What do I have to do?" asked Gaston, still in shock.

"I could tell you, but I think it is best you work that out for yourself," the enchantress told him. "I will not set you a time limit, nor a specific task, but I will be watching you. I will change you back when and if I feel you have learned your lesson."

She waved her hands once again and disappeared into thin air.

"Get back here, you vile woman," Gaston screamed. "Change me back this instant."

Gaston was not able to work up the courage to look in the mirror for another twenty minutes. This was a particularly amazing occurrence as, prior to being cursed, staring at himself in the mirror had been his favourite past time.

At least the enchantress had made him an attractive woman, he thought to himself as he stared at his reflection. His hips were as wide as his breasts were large, but his waist was almost as narrow as Belle's. Together they formed a perfect hourglass shape. His facial features were no longer rough and stern, but rather strikingly attractive. His cheekbones were just high as the enchantress's cheekbones, and his lips were just as plump and pouty as Belle's lips. His shiny black hair now reached the middle of his back and curled up at the ends. His impressively large chin cleft had been replaced by a comparatively smaller one. In fact, it had taken Gaston a few moments to even notice it. Nevertheless, Gaston's female body was just as majestic as his male one. He looked exactly like the type of woman Gaston had often fantasised about.

At least the enchantress had set the prince a specific task, Gaston thought bitterly to himself. What was the enchantress trying to accomplish anyway? What was he supposed to learn from this experience? How to be a lazy, useless weakling? Women didn't have to work or think or worry. They just had to keep their houses clean and their husbands fed. They were the most fortunate creatures in the land.

* * *

_I would like to thank the users on the Bittersweet and Strange forum(TrudiRose, samoaphoenix9, Julie-Jeanette, Answer, Nyxity, and So-crates Johnson) who encouraged me to write this story and have been an enormous help to me. Unfortunately I do not know how often I will be able to update this story as I am busy with university(the semester hasn't even started yet and I've already got three assignments), and I am working on a number of other stories, but I will do my best. _


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Gaston spent the next two weeks hiding out in his house, living on the food he had stored in his cupboards. He was far too ashamed to go out in the village in his current body. However, once he ran out of food he realised that couldn't hide any longer. He had to go out for supplies. But what would he wear? He couldn't go out dressed in his old clothes. They barely fit him now. He would have to wear women's clothing. The thought filled him with disgust. Imagine! The great Gaston in a dress! The mere thought was ridiculous, but he had no choice.

But where would he find a dress? A sudden thought struck him. It was possible he still had some of his mother's old clothes lying around. Gaston strode into his mother's old bedroom and looked around. He hadn't been inside since her death five years previously. A thick layer of dust now covered every surface. The formerly bright orange walls had faded to a murky yellow. Gaston opened the wardrobe and a found a single pink, lace-trimmed dress and a set of stays. Gaston eyed the dress with disgust. He hated pink! He could take wearing a dress for a few minutes or so if it was absolutely necessary, but a pink one? Pink was nothing but a lesser form of red. It was only worn by women, sodomites, and weaklings. It was certainly not a colour appropriate for a strong, handsome, incredible man like Gaston.

It took him a full half-hour to figure out how his stays worked, and another twenty minutes to actually put them on. By the time Gaston managed to get his dress on, it was almost five o'clock. The shopkeepers did not usually close up until a quarter past five. He still had some time. Gaston picked up an old, wicker basket that he had found at the back of his mother's closet, and walked out to the living room.

Gaston took a deep breath, opened the front door, and stepped outside. The street was full of people rushing through the streets, though fortunately no one seemed to notice him. He sidled up to the butcher's stall nervously. Florian, the butcher, looked up from where he was cutting up a chicken. He stared at Gaston curiously. His eyes lit up as they travelled down to Gaston's breasts.

"What can I get for you?" he said to Gaston's chest.

"Can I have a leg of ham?" Gaston asked.

Florian chose the largest leg of ham from the pile on his counter and handed it to Gaston, never taking his eyes off his breasts.

"Wait, I forgot my money," said Gaston suddenly. The thought hadn't occurred to him. He hadn't paid for anything in the village for years. Shopkeepers usually just gave him their goods. He was Gaston, after all.

"It's okay," said Florian, still mesmerised by Gaston's breasts. "Take it anyway. I don't care."

"What?" Gaston blinked in confusion.

"Take it," Florian urged. "Before my wife notices."

Gaston turned away and grinned to himself. Living as a woman was going to be easier than he thought it was going to be.

* * *

"Did you see that?" gasped Emilie as she and her sisters were walking through the town late that afternoon.

Coralie and Rosalie turned to face their sister.

"What?" they asked together.

"A woman just went into Gaston's house," Emilie told them.

"Who?" asked Coralie.

"I have no idea," Emilie admitted.

"What did she look like?" questioned Rosalie.

"I don't know. I only saw her from the back," said Emilie

"Maybe Gaston is still alive and she has been nursing him back to health," suggested Coralie.

"Then why hasn't she told us?" asked Rosalie. "Why would she keep something like that a secret?"

"She's clearly trying to keep him all for herself," said Coralie. "He's probably trapped in there."

"Poor Gaston!" cried Emilie.

"We have to help him!" exclaimed Coralie.

* * *

Gaston closed the door and breathed a heavy sigh of relief. He set the wicker basket down on the kitchen table, retrieved a large knife from the cupboard, and started cutting up the ham and piling the slices onto the plate. He had just started gobbling down the ham when he heard the front door open. He stood up and turned around to see the Baudelaire triplets standing in the doorway.

"Who are you?" Emilie demanded.

"And what are you doing in Gaston's house?" asked Rosalie.

"It's me, Gast-" he started to say before he stopped himself. No one would ever believe that the great Gaston was now the weak, pathetic woman they saw before them. "I'm Gabrielle," he told them, saying the first name that came into his head. "Gaston's sister."

"Gaston never mentioned he had a sister," said Rosalie, raising an eyebrow.

"Why haven't we seen you before?" asked Coralie.

"And what are you doing here?" questioned Emilie.

"I was the result of an affair between our mother and one of our neighbours," Gaston told them. His father could never have had a daughter. Only weak men like Belle's father were capable of producing daughters. "His selfless father took pity on his wife and agreed to raise me as his child. I stayed in Nevers with our grandmother when Gaston and our mother moved here after his father died. I heard about my brother's death just a few days ago and came immediately."

"I can't believe it," said Emilie. "We knew Gaston for ten years, and he never told us he had a sister."

"He never really told us anything," Rosalie reminded her.

"Let us make you some new clothes, Gabrielle," said Coralie. "That thing you're wearing now is horribly old-fashioned."

"I suppose you can," said Gaston. He could use another dress. He hated wearing pink. If he had to wear a dress, he'd rather it be a manly colour, like red.

"It will have to wait, though," said Coralie, frowning. "We have to go to work."

"I don't see the point of going to work when Gaston isn't going to be there," wailed Emilie.

"Why don't you come with us, Gabrielle?" suggested Rosalie. "You can meet everyone."

"I'd rather not," said Gaston quickly. The last thing he wanted to do right now was face his old cronies in his current body.

"Oh, come on, Gabrielle," said Rosalie pleadingly. "I'm sure the men would love to meet you."

"Yeah, come on," said Emilie. She grabbed Gaston by the wrist and pulled him out of the house and down the street towards the tavern. Her sisters followed close behind them.

The tavern was almost packed. Gaston tried to hide behind the triplets so that no one could see him.

"Everyone, this is Gaston's sister, Gabrielle," announced Rosalie, gesturing to Gaston.

Every single pair of eyes in the tavern turned to stare at Gaston.

"Gaston's sister?" repeated Thomas, one of his old cronies.

"Gaston doesn't have a sister," said LeFou. "He told me so himself."

"I don't blame my brother for not talking about me," said Gaston. "The thought of a handsome, brilliant man like him having an illegitimate sister like me is ridiculous. I suppose he thought no one would ever believe him."

In the corner of his eye, Gaston noticed the portrait of him handing on the wall, surrounded by his trophies. He strode over and stared up at it wistfully. The triplets followed him.

"My brother was a handsome man, wasn't he?" he said, looking up at the portrait. "His eyes were bluer than the deepest ocean. His golden skin looked as if it had been kissed by the sun. His shiny, raven black hair was softer than the finest silk. And those muscles! He was truly one of the most beautiful creatures to ever grace the planet. We were lucky to bask in his glory for twenty-six years."

Emilie, Coralie, and Rosalie exchanged perturbed glances.

"Come and sit down at the bar, Gabrielle. I'll pour you a drink," said Rosalie.

Emilie and Coralie went off to serve customers as Rosalie led Gaston over to the bar.

"Gabrielle's certainly a looker, isn't she?" he heard Thomas say. "Do you think she's married?"

"She's Gaston's sister!" LeFou exclaimed, shocked.

"She looks just like him," said Richard, another one of his old cronies.

"I'd say she's a great deal more attractive than Gaston," said Thomas.

"What? No!" LeFou exclaimed, alarmed. "She's pretty, but she has nothing on Gaston."

Gaston sat down on a stool by the bar as Rosalie poured beer into a large stein. She pushed it towards him and motioned for him to take a swig.

"So, are you planning on staying here in the village?" she asked.

"I guess so," replied Gaston. It was his only choice. He didn't have anywhere else to go.

"I can't wait to get to know you better," Rosalie told him, smiling.

Rosalie went off to serve another group of customers, leaving Gaston alone with his beer. As he took another sip, he felt sudden wave of pain come over his stomach. It was like nothing he had ever felt before. It was almost as bad as the pain he had felt when he had laid dying in the ravine.

"Gabrielle?" he heard a voice ask behind him.

Gaston ignored it and took another sip of beer.

"Gabrielle?" the voice repeated.

It took another few seconds for Gaston to realise that the voice was addressing him.

"Yes?" he asked as he turned around to see Thomas and Richard staring at him.

"I hope you don't mind me saying so, but you are absolutely gorgeous," Thomas told him.

"Are you married? Any man would be lucky to have you for a wife," said Richard.

Naturally, the men's attentions made Gaston feel indescribably uncomfortable. These were his former drinking buddies after all. However a compliment was a compliment, and the only thing Gaston loved more than looking at his own reflection was being praised. As the night went on, the pain in his stomach become stronger and stronger, Thomas and Richard became more and more intoxicated, and their praises made Gaston more and more uncomfortable.

"The things I would do to you if we were alone together," Thomas slurred.

"You have such a round, firm buttocks," said Richard. "Perfect for-"

"Excuse me," said Gaston, standing up. He couldn't take it anymore. He had to go home.

Before Gaston could start walking away from them, he felt a sharp pinch on his rear end. He whirled around to see Thomas looking very proud of himself, a drunken grin etched across his face. Gaston couldn't help himself. He raised his arm and swung a punch at Thomas's face. Everyone in the tavern stopped what they had been doing and stared over at them. Gaston quickly made his way out the door of the tavern and started to run down the street.

"Wait, Gabrielle!"

Gaston stopped running and turned back to find that Rosalie, Emilie, and Coralie had come running after him.

"Where are you going?" asked Rosalie.

"I feel sick," he told them. "I'm going to bed."

"I hope you feel better," said Emilie sympathetically.

"We will come by your house tomorrow morning," said Rosalie.

"What?"

"We're making you a new dress, remember?" Coralie reminded him.

"Oh, right."

Gaston rushed home and threw off his dress as soon as he stepped through the door. He tore off his stays, inadvertently breaking them in the process, and threw them to floor. He ran up to his room, climbed into his bed, and curled up into a ball. The pain in his stomach was unbearable. It felt as though his entire abdomen was on fire. He closed his eyes tightly. He wanted nothing more than to fall asleep and forget about the pain that was taking over his body.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Gaston awoke the next morning to find that the pain in his stomach had subsided. He pulled back his blankets and forced himself out of bed. He rubbed his eyes and walked over to where he had thrown his clothes the night before. As he bent down to pick his mother's hideous old pink dress up, something caught his eye. His mouth fell open in horror. There was blood all over his sheets. He looked down at his legs. Blood was running down his thighs. He had been wounded! Someone must have stabbed him during the night. No, that was ridiculous, he told himself.

"Gabrielle, are you awake? We're here to make your dress!"

The door opened and the Baudelaire triplets entered the room. Upon seeing Gaston's completely naked body, they stopped in their tracks.

"Gabrielle, we're making you a new dress, but you don't have to be completely naked," said Coralie, raising an eyebrow. "You can still wear your stays and a chemise."

"What's wrong?" asked Rosalie. "You look frightened."

"I'm bleeding," Gaston told them.

"What happened?" questioned Rosalie.

"Are you wounded?" asked Emilie.

"No," answered Gaston. "I just woke up and there was blood all over my sheets."

The triplets exchanged glances.

"Is the blood coming from between your legs?" asked Rosalie.

Gaston nodded.

"How old are you?" Coralie asked.

"Twenty-six," answered Gaston.

"And this has never happened before?" asked Rosalie

Gaston shook his head. The girls exchanged glances again.

"Well, I suppose every woman is different," said Rosalie. "I'm surprised, though. You seem so… developed."

"We first got ours when we were fourteen," said Coralie. "Our friend Danielle got hers when she was nine, so everyone is different."

"Don't worry, the bleeding will stop in a couple of days," Emilie assured him.

"Only for a few weeks, though," Rosalie pointed out.

"You mean… this is going to happen again?" asked Gaston, his eyes widening in horror.

"Every month," confirmed Coralie.

"For how long?" asked Gaston.

"It usually lasts around thirty to forty years," answered Emilie.

"Unless you have a baby," said Rosalie. "Then it stops for a while."

Gaston stared down at his stomach as a thought crossed his mind. He could physically bear a child. It had never occurred to him before. This fact terrified and disgusted him. The mere idea of him carrying and giving birth to a child was preposterous.

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up," said Emilie.

"You can use rags and sponges to stop the blood from leaking. We've got some spare ones at home. You can have them if you want," offered Rosalie.

Coralie and Emilie fetched a small bucket of water as Rosalie ran home. They removed his bed sheets and left Gaston alone in his room to wash himself. After he finished, he found a pair of tight linen drawers deep in his wardrobe and used it hold one of the rags that Rosalie had given him in place. He pulled on a long chemise that the triplets had found in his mother's old bedroom, and walked out into the kitchen where he found the girls sitting at the table. A pile of fabric was sitting before them. His bed sheets were soaking in a barrel of water near the door.

"What colour do you want your dress to be?" asked Coralie. "We've got pink, purple, and red fabrics."

"Red," said Gaston quickly. "Definitely red."

"Excellent choice!" exclaimed Rosalie happily, glancing down at her own red dress.

"You'd look gorgeous in red!" gushed Emilie.

"Gaston looked pretty fine in red too," said Coralie. "I suppose it runs in the family."

Rosalie and Emilie echoed their sister's sentiments. Gaston grinned. The girls set to work cutting up various fabrics and pinning them around his body. All the while, they spoke endlessly about Gaston and how wonderful he had been when he was alive. Gaston couldn't stop beaming. He didn't even mind that much when one of the girls stabbed him with a pin.

"We'll sew this up tonight. It should be ready by tomorrow," promised Emilie as she folded up the dress.

Gaston spent the rest of the day polishing his guns and looking forlornly at his trophies. He had so many he'd had to start hanging them in the tavern. He wanted to go hunting again more than anything. A thought suddenly occurred to him. Why couldn't he go out hunting? There was nothing stopping him from doing it. His skills hadn't diminished just because he was in the body of a woman now.

The next morning, Gaston woke up, dressed, ate breakfast, grabbed his gun, and set off into the forest. He spent quite a bit of time wandering around the forest before he finally came across a noble, majestic stag. With a cunning grin, he raised his gun and struck the deer right in the middle of its stomach. Gaston beamed, slung the deer over his shoulder, and had started to head back towards the village when he heard a familiar voice behind him.

"It's Gaston's sister!"

Gaston turned around and saw Thomas, Richard, LeFou, and two other men who frequented the tavern, Jean and Damien, standing behind hm.

"What are _you _doing here?" LeFou asked, scowling.

"Who shot that stag?" asked Richard.

"I did," answered Gaston.

"Girls don't hunt," snorted LeFou. He turned to the other men. "I don't trust her. She probably got someone else to shoot it for her."

Gaston sneered and dumped the deer carcass on the floor. He raised his gun once more, peered around the trees, and pulled the trigger. An even larger stag fell to the ground. Gaston strode over and posed next to it triumphantly. The men gaped at him.

"She is Gaston's sister," said Jean. "Of course she's a good hunter."

"It's only natural," said Richard. "Here, let us help you carry those back to the village, Gabrielle."

The men helped Gaston carry the deer back to his house. When they got there, they found Emilie and Coralie waiting outside.

"There you are!" cried Emilie.

"We finished the dress," said Coralie.

"Guess what!" called Rosalie as she rushed up to them. "Auguste just asked Fabienne to marry him."

"Well, it's about time," said Emilie and Coralie together.

As the weeks went by, Gaston slowly began to gain the trust of the villagers. He had the heads of the two stags he had killed mounted on the wall of the tavern. He and the rest of the men went hunting quite often and Gaston almost always managed to out-hunt the lot of them. In the evenings, Gaston joined them in the tavern where basked in their attentions and drank copious amounts of alcohol. One evening in August, Gaston was walking home by himself when the triplets came up to

him and grabbed him by the wrist.

"Come on, Gabrielle!" Rosalie said.

"Where are we going?" asked Gaston.

"Fabienne's bridal shower, of course!" cried Emilie. "Come on!"

The girls took him to a small house just on the edge of town. It was filled to the brim with women who lived in the village, most of whom he recognised.

"Gabrielle, this is Vivienne, and this is Liliane, and this is-"

Gaston instantly tuned out. He already knew all these women. In fact, he knew some of them a little too well. He sunk into a chair near two gossiping older women, Madame Beaulieu and Madame Augustin.

"A friend of mine lives in Nevers," Madame Augustin was telling her friend. "She's married to a jeweller. She came to see me yesterday, and apparently her husband received a surprise visit from a certain customer and few days ago."

"Who was it?" asked Madame Beaulieu.

"The prince," answered Madame Augustin. "He's planning on asking someone to marry him."

"Which prince?" asked Madame Beauliu.

"Prince Adam. The one who lives in that lovely old castle in the forest," Madame Augustin said.

"But he hasn't been seen in years!" cried Madame Beaulieu. "I assumed he was dead."

"Apparently, he was being held hostage in his own castle by a horrific beast," said Madame Augustin. "I suppose that was the monster that Gaston killed. You'll never guess who he got engaged to."

"Who?"

"Belle."

"You mean our Belle?" asked Madame Beaulieu. "That's awful! Gaston died saving his life, and the first thing he does is move in on his girl."

"Gaston is dead," said Madame Augustin. "It's not as if the prince stole Belle from him. Belle didn't seem as if she wanted to marry Gaston at all, actually"

"That's true, but how could they do this so soon after Gaston's death? Don't they have any respect for him?" asked Madame Beaulieu, disgusted.

Gaston stood up and stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind him. His insides were churning with rage. He should be the one marrying Belle, not some monster, even if that monster was a prince now. He had worked so hard to woo her and, just when he had come up with a plan to finally catch her, he stole her away. He had tricked and manipulated her with money, presents, and a giant castle. She had been so distracted by the presents he had given her that she hadn't even noticed the great guy who had been there all along. It was so typical of a woman.

He looked down at his breasts and scowled. He hated this body and he hated pretending to be a woman. The entire village adored him, almost as much as they did before he was cursed. He had earned their respect, trust, and admiration. It was time to reveal the truth.

* * *

"Anything wrong, my little hazelnut?" asked Adam, a look of concern crossing his features. "Something has been troubling you all week."

Belle let out a deep sigh and looked up at her prince.

"I can't believe we haven't found Gaston's body yet," she said. "Are you sure you've checked everywhere?"

"We've looked all over the grounds, but there is no sign of him," Adam replied.

"I'm worried, Adam," said Belle. "He could still be out there."

"Belle, he fell hundreds of feet into a shallow ravine. There's no way he could have survived," said Adam. He smiled warmly at her. "And even if he did come back, I'll be here to protect you."

"You're very sweet, _mignon_, but you're not ten feet tall anymore_,_" said Belle, grinning. "But I feel safe with you, anyway."

"Lumiere, can you bring the crème brûlées in now?" Adam called.

Lumiere strode in, carrying a small silver tray with two ramekins of crème brûlées on it. He winked at Adam and placed the two ramekins on the table.

"I'm sorry, Lumiere. I'm not too hungry tonight. I'm going to bed," Belle stood up and turned to Adam. An uncharacteristically suggestive glint was in her eyes. "I wonder if the cuddle monster will show up tonight."

"No!" Adam yelled, leaping out of his chair. Belle and Lumiere stared at him.

"No, Belle, please eat your dessert," he said as calmly as he could, sitting back down at the table. "Lumiere made them himself."

"Okay, okay, Adam. I'll eat it."

Belle sat back down at the table, picked up her spoon, and began eating.

"Belle, I know you might think this is a little sudden," Adam said as he watched Belle eat. "I know we agreed to wait, but we both know we love each other. I don't want to wait any longer."

Adam paused and waited for Belle to finish her dessert.

"That was wonderful, thank you, Lumiere!" Belle declared, setting her spoon down.

Adam and Lumiere glanced at each other.

"Belle, my darling, didn't you notice anything strange about your dessert?" asked Adam.

"No. Is there something wrong with yours?" Belle asked.

She peered over at Adam's side of the table and frowned.

"You haven't even touched it!" she exclaimed. She grinned slyly and narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "Are you two trying to play a trick on me?"

"No, tricks, I swear!" Adam said quickly. He picked up a spoon and tried to swallow a mouthful of crème brûlées, but he felt something hard and circular get stuck in his throat.

"I'm sorry, Master. I think I gave Mademoiselle Belle the wrong dessert," said Lumiere, peering into Belle's empty ramekin. "Master?"

Adam coughed and spluttered. Lumiere rushed over and slapped the prince on the back. The ring came flying out of Adam's mouth and landed right in the middle of Belle's empty ramekin. Lumiere seized it and ran into the kitchen. Adam slumped down in his chair. Belle rushed over to him.

"Adam, are you asking me to marry you?" she asked, brushing the hair away from his eyes.

Adam nodded.

"Well, why didn't you just say so? Of course I'll marry you!" Belle exclaimed.

"I wanted my proposal to be special, like you," Adam told her.

Lumiere ran into the room and pressed the clean ring into Adam's hand. Adam slipped the ring onto Belle's finger and the two of them embraced.


End file.
